Cross the Line (Boston Love Story #2) (25 page)

My brother nods, reaches into his pocket, and walks to a corner to make the call.

“I’m not going!” I snap, glaring at Nate. Boo, likely hearing the edge in my voice, barks his support from the floor. “I’m not going to be carted off like some damsel in distress because you think I’m too soft to handle this. This is
my
fight, just as much as anyone else’s.”

“You can scream at me till you’re red in the face, little bird.” Nate’s eyes never waver from mine and there’s so much steel in his tone, I barely notice the endearment. “Your ass will still be on that fucking plane.”

“You’re a jackass,” I snap at him. Boo barks again, for emphasis.

He smiles, and it’s so cold it makes me shiver. Without another word, he turns back to my father, who’s slumped in his chair like a broken mannequin.

“I’ll have one of my men keep an eye on you in case Mac tries anything, but I have a feeling if he’s going to target anyone, it’ll be Phoebe, Parker, or…” His words cut off abruptly and his body goes tense. “Does Mac know about her?”

Her
?

My father’s head comes up. Something Nate said is important enough to pull him out of his pity-party.

“I don’t think so.” Milo shakes his head. “It’s not public knowledge. Not yet.” His eyes shift to me for a brief instant, then dart back to Nate. “I haven’t had a chance to…”

He drifts off.

What the hell are they talking about?
Who
the hell are they talking about?

Nate nods sharply. “Still, I’ll tell Chase to amp up security, just in case.”

Chase?

Chase Croft?

“One of men will stay with your son. I’ll stick with your daughter until she leaves. It’s better if they’re both away until this is resolved,” Nate says.

A frustrated screech escapes my mouth. “I’m not leaving.”

He ignores me. “Call if you get word from Mac,” he tells Milo, his voice cold with disgust. “And don’t do anything without clearing it with me first.”

Before I can say goodbye to my father, Nate’s turned, grabbed hold of my hand, and is tugging me toward the door.

“Wait just a goddamn minute!” I yell, tugging at his grip ineffectively.
God, he’s strong.
Boo trots ahead of us, tail twitching happily as he goes to investigate a potted plant in the corner.

We come to a stop by Parker, who’s shoving his phone back into the pocket of his jeans.

“Is it done?” Nate asks.

Parker nods. “Seven sharp, tomorrow morning.”

A sigh escapes Nate — I’d swear, it sounds almost relieved. “Good. We’re going to her place to pack her shit.”

“No we aren’t,” I snap. “Because
I’m not leaving
.”

They both ignore me.

The sound of a chair being pushed back makes us all turn toward the desk. Milo’s on his feet, looking more himself — all traces of weakness have been removed from his expression. If not for the faint redness around his eyes, you’d never know he’d been upset at all.

“I’ll fix this.” His voice is firm with false confidence.
This
is the father I recognize — the man who can sell any idea to anyone with a checkbook. “Everything in life is negotiable. I’ll fix it. I promise.”

Parker laughs. “Right. Because you’ve handled things so well up till this point.”

“Parker.” I sigh. “You’re not helping.”

“We have to go,” Nate says, glancing at his watch. It’s almost seven. “Your sister still needs to pack a bag, and we have…” He trails off, and a funny look crosses his face as his eyes meet Parker’s. “…that
thing
at eight.” 

“I’m not packing,” I insist. “And what
thing
are you talking about?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Nate says. “And if you don’t pack, I’ll do it for you, and none of your shit will match. I know how you feel about your goddamned shoes.” He glances down at my Louboutins. “Can only imagine the horror if you were stranded without your perfectly coordinated outfits.”

I glare at him. “Again: you’re a jackass.”

“Boo,” he yells, ignoring my insult. “Come!”

The Pom comes running from behind Parker, skidding to a stop by Nate’s boots with a look of adoration on his doggie face.

Traitor
.

An instant later, Nate’s pulled the leash from my limp hands, snapped it back on Boo’s collar, and is tugging us both toward the door. Parker’s close on our heels.

“Parker.” My father’s voice is steady as he calls after us.

We turn to look at him.

“Stay behind a moment.” Milo stares at his son. “I have something else to discuss with you.”

Parker sighs deeply. “Dad, if you want me to set you up with one of my model friends, just send me an email.”

“Must you turn everything into a joke?” Dad snaps, eyes flashing.

Parker shrugs. “I mean, it’s not a requirement, but—”

“Enough. This isn’t the time for foolishness.” My father presses a hand to his head, as though this half hour conversation with his children has shaved years off his life.

I look at Parker, mouthing silent words in his direction like we used to do at the dinner table on the rare occasions Milo was home to eat with us.

Want me to stay?

“Save yourself,” he murmurs, pushing me toward the door. “I’ll catch up with you guys. If not at your place, then later. At the
thing
.” 

I roll my eyes and stomp out before the jackass who owns my heart can grab me again.

Supposedly, an orchid will re-bloom

after a 6-12 month resting period.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Phoebe West, on her way home from the

florist with a trunk full of new plants. 

The car is totally silent as Nate steers us toward Back Bay. Even Boo lies still on my lap, seeming to sense the intense atmosphere between us. My fingers move absently in his fur as I stare out the window, doing my best to ignore Nate’s existence.

He thinks he can order me around? Shove me on a plane and ship me off, out of the way, like some invalid? Like I’m an
inconvenience
?

My teeth mash together as anger and frustration swirl in my stomach. I’ve never been so mad at him in my life.

When we approached the SUV, I actually contemplated climbing into the back seat, just to have some space from him, but doing so would’ve shown how much he affects me and frankly, I’m a little too proud for that.

His hands are clenched tight around the wheel and every time I glance his way, I see the muscle jumping in his cheek, a telltale sign he’s pissed off. I don’t know why
he’s
so angry — he’s not the one being shipped off like unwanted cargo — but by the time we pull up in front of my brownstone, I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t spontaneously combusted. His rage — at me, at my father, at the entire situation — is apparent in every muscle in his body.

The engine shuts off and we sit frozen at the curb in total silence.

“This isn’t your problem,” I say finally, when I can’t bear the quiet any longer.

He cuts a look in my direction that’s so intense, I nearly pee my pants.

“Not my problem?”

I swallow. “You didn’t have to get involved in this. So you don’t have to act all pissed off and brooding, like I asked you to save me or something. I never
once
asked you to take this on your shoulders”

His eyes flash darkly. “Get out.”

“What?” I ask, heart pounding.

“Get out of the damn car.” His jaw tightens. “We’re not discussing this here.”

“Stop ordering me around!”

He’s not listening. He’s already out the driver’s side, rounding the front of the SUV and pulling me onto the sidewalk. Before I have time to process what’s going on, Boo’s leash is snatched from my grip, a large hand lands on the small of my back, and we’re up my front steps and inside my townhouse.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shriek as soon as the door slams shut behind us. I take a few strides away from him, because I’m liable to smack him if he’s anywhere within reach. The instant Nate unclips the leash, Boo scampers into the kitchen, out of firing range.

Wise dog.

“Trying to save your goddamn life!” Nate yells. “Though, at this point, I’m not sure why the hell I’m bothering!” 

“Just leave, then. Go.” My voice breaks on the last word. I ignore it. “Parker will take me to the airport tomorrow. And you and I will go back to how it was before.”

“Before?” The word is so electric, it’s giving off sparks in the air between us. 

Oh boy.

I nod as I watch him warily, all my words fleeing along with my courage.

“Before what, West?” he asks in a scary quiet voice. “Before I had my tongue in your mouth? Before you were naked in my hands? Before I touched you and you almost came apart?” A smirk tugs his lips. “Can you really come back from that? I doubt it, little bird.”

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

“You were pretty damn close.”

He steps toward me.

I step back.

“I’m not a robot. I had a physiological reaction. So, sue me.” I jerk my chin higher. I’m not sure when this fight became about us, but now that it has there’s no going back. “Just because
you’re
an expert at blocking out every feeling you’ve ever had doesn’t mean I have to be. Maybe that makes me weak, and maybe I’ll get hurt in the long run, but I’d rather be like this than be like you.”

“Like me?” he asks, voice rumbling with barely-contained anger.

My voice drops to a broken whisper. “Incapable of feelings. Of trusting someone. Of love.”

“You wouldn’t know love if it bit you in the ass, sweetheart.”

I scoff. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“And why is that, West?” he growls. “Please, enlighten me.”

“Like you know anything about love, Nate?” I roll my eyes. “You’ve never loved a goddamned thing in your life.”

He stares at me — hard, unflinching. “You don’t know a damn thing.”

“I may not know
everything
.” I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. “But I do know what love is.” 

“You know a definition in a dictionary. You know a fucking proverb —
love is patient love is kind
. That’s bullshit. Because love, real love, the kind that lasts forever… it’s not patient or kind. Not pretty or perfect. It’s rough and hard as all hell. It’s ugly.” He steps closer, eyes never shifting from mine. “Love is holding someone’s filthy, tarnished heart in your hands and claiming it as yours anyway.”

My breath catches.

He takes another step. “And you don’t like dirty, do you, West? You like everything pretty as a picture. Look at this fucking house!” He gestures around. “Not a rug out of place. Straight out of a Crate & Barrel catalogue. Perfect clothes, perfect dog, perfect job. Not a speck of dirt in your whole goddamned life.”

“That’s not true.” I swallow. “My life is far from perfect.”

“But that’s the goal, isn’t it? Perfect Phoebe West. Smile for the cameras. Hold it all together.” His eyes are searing into mine. “You play pretend and think it’ll make you happy. It won’t.”

“Yeah? Well, what about you, Nate?” I’m so pissed off, I can feel my heart hammering at my ribs. “The untouchable mercenary — cold, calculated, always in control. You’re so set on not letting anyone in, on never letting anyone get to you, one of these days you’re going to turn to fucking stone.” 

“Is that what this is about?” His eyes narrow. He’s breathing hard. “Is that what you need to hear? That you get to me?”

He crosses the room in two strides and then he's there, pressed against me full frontal. I gasp when I feel the unmistakable length of him, hard and heavy against my stomach.

His eyes lock on mine. “
You get to me.
”

“Nate—”

“What? This is what you wanted, right? To know you affect me?” His voice rumbles from his throat like gravel. “To know I’m not a fucking robot?”

He grinds against me and it makes me shiver and groan at the same time.

“Well, here it is. Definitive fucking proof. You get to me. You feel that?” He presses harder against me. “It's yours. It's been yours for ten goddamn years, since you were fourteen in that little field hockey skirt. It’s still yours.”

I flounder for words as I stare at him, heart racing. In the end, all I can come up with is one.

“Mine?”

“
Yours
.” He spits out the word like a curse. “You sunk your teeth in long ago and won't ever unclench, even if it kills us both.”

We’re both breathing too hard, our faces inches apart, our bodies pressed together. I’m not sure who moves first — I think it’s me.

We crash into each other with so much force it knocks the wind out of me, but I don’t mind at all because then he’s kissing me and everything in my world boils down to the point of contact where his mouth consumes mine.

***

“Not here.”

He mutters the words against the skin of my neck, between kisses.

A frustrated sound slips from my mouth.

“Been waiting too long for this to do it on the floor of your entryway,” he adds, scooping me up into his arms before I can protest. My limbs wrap around him, holding him close as he carries me up the stairs to my bedroom. When he sets me on the mattress, for a long moment he just stares down at me, breathing too fast. There’s a look in his eyes I don’t recognize. Something soft and warm, that makes my heart turn over.

“Come here,” I whisper.

His hands curl into fists. “Parker’s going to kill me if I fuck this up.”

“You’re thinking about my brother right now?” I ask, pushing up on my elbows.

His jaw clenches. “About his fist hitting my face, yeah.”

I sit up fully, eyes on his.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that…” My words trail off as my fingers find the bottom hem of my shirt. In one swift move, I’ve tugged it up over my head and tossed it to the floor.

He stops breathing.

“Still thinking about Parker?” I ask, reaching for my bra clasp.

“No.” His voice is hoarse. “Fuck no.”

The clasp pops with a flick of my fingers. “Good,” I say, letting the straps slide down my arms.

I don’t see the bra hit the bed because suddenly Nate’s on me, hands moving over my skin as his mouth crushes mine in a bruising kiss. We tangle together, equally ravenous as we tug at zippers and tear at buttons.

“I dream about this mouth,” he says, kissing me. “This skin,” he adds, fingers trailing a path down my stomach. “These legs wrapped around me.” His hands hitch under my thighs as he pulls me closer. There’s something like awe in his voice as he touches me with rough hands, kisses me with hard lips. “Did you know that, little bird? Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

I’m too busy working his shirt up over his head to respond. When it’s off, I suck in a breath at the sight of his chest.

It’s gorgeous.
He’s
gorgeous. There’s a scar I don’t remember on the right side of his stomach. His abs are defined, his skin is tanned and warm. His hip bones form a perfect V, framing the strip of hair that leads down into his jeans.

“Holy frack,” I murmur, tracing my fingertips against the scar on his stomach.

He chuckles against the skin of my collarbone. “What, never seen a man’s chest before?”

“Not this close up,” I admit foolishly.

I realize my mistake an instant after the words leave my mouth. Nate goes totally still. His face lifts from my chest to look into mine and I see something creep into his eyes that I don’t like — partly because it replaces the lust there, but mainly because it looks an awful lot like apprehension.

“Just kidding,” I lie, hands gripping his shoulders to keep him close. “Where were we?”

I’m no match for his strength — when he pulls back, my hands drop uselessly to the duvet.

“West.”

I swallow. “Yeah?”

His eyes are steady on mine, but I can’t discern any of the emotions in them. His expression is unreadable. “Are you…
Christ
.” He exhales sharply. “Are you a virgin?”

“No,” I snap instantly, not above fibbing when I’m so close to finally getting what I want. (
What I want
being Nate naked on top of me.)  

He stares at me, seeing straight through me like always. Something like shock flares in his eyes.

“You are.” His voice is staggered. “You’re a virgin.”

The way he says it, you’d think I’ve just revealed I’m a unicorn or a fire-breathing dragon. Some kind of mythical, nonexistent creature.

“Yeah, well. So what if I am?” My voice is just the
teensiest
bit defensive.

He blinks. “How is that possible? What about…” His voice darkens. “…
Diego
?”

A scream of frustration pops out. “Diego was never…” I trail off, not wanting to get into that whole story right now. Or
ever
. “Can’t we just forget I said anything and pick up where we left off?”

“No.”

I huff.

“West—”

“You’ve had your face between my boobs,” I bite out. “It’s
Phoebe
.”

His eyes flicker down to my exposed body for a second, as though he can’t stop himself. If I weren’t so angry, maybe I’d be embarrassed about sitting two inches from him wearing practically nothing. As it is, I gladly let him look. I hope the memory of me naked keeps him awake at night.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I haven’t seen in years. Not since before he joined the special forces.

“Why?”

“Why what? Use your words, Nathaniel.”

He looks away from me, jaw clenching. “Why would you throw something like that away on someone like me, when you’ve been waiting so long?”

My mouth gapes. I’ve never wanted to yell at him more than I do in that moment.

Because I’ve been waiting for
you
, idiot! Because it won’t be throwing it away. It will be sharing something incredible with the man I love. The man I’ve always loved.

He continues before I can say anything, not able to meet my eyes. “Why would you waste it on a night of meaningless sex?”